


What Friends Do

by pepperminttea3



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 13:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14333550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperminttea3/pseuds/pepperminttea3
Summary: Sorry, Fitz; can’t make it to the lab today. See you Monday. --SSimmons isn't coming work. Fitz decides to find out why.





	What Friends Do

The pale morning light was barely peeking through the windows as Fitz made his way through the halls. Though it was hard to drag himself away from his warm, comfortable bed on a Saturday, he simply couldn’t resist the pull of a nearly-empty lab. His coworkers at Sci-Ops were fine and all, but sometimes he needed a bit of space and silence to get his ideas in order. 

And Simmons, of course. Her presence certainly helped.

Saturday mornings were his opportunity to spend uninterrupted time with his partner, and they were quickly becoming his favorite day of the week. The day-to-day demands of being a S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist meant that he and Simmons rarely got the chance to collaborate anymore, so they’d started making time on the weekends to experiment together. Fitz was certain that the non-lethal bullets and dendrotoxin they were currently working on would be game-changing for agents in the field. He was looking forward to hearing Simmons’s thoughts on a brainwave he’d had late last night.

Fitz held his I.D. badge up to the panel on the door, and was surprised to find all the lab’s lights off when he stepped inside. Simmons, ever the type of chipper morning person Fitz would never understand, usually got here well before he did. Just as he was flipping on the lights and wondering if he’d have time for a cup of tea before Simmons arrived, his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

_Sorry, Fitz; can’t make it to the lab today. See you Monday. --S_

Only Jemma Simmons would use a semicolon in a text message, Fitz thought. He read the message again, then frowned. They’d had this standing arrangement for a few weeks now. What could possibly be keeping Simmons today that she wouldn’t have told him about? 

_It’s a date._ The thought drifted unbidden into his mind, and he shook his head to clear it. _It is not a date,_ he told himself firmly. _Who goes on a date at eight o’clock in the morning?_ He tried not to think about how much Simmons loved breakfast.

 _It’s fine,_ he thought as he flicked the lights off again. _Fine, _as he left through the door he’d just come in. Almost without realizing how he’d got there, he suddenly found himself walking the route to Simmons’s flat.__

____

~

____

Through the front door, up the stairs, down the hallway, and all the way up to her door…as Fitz got closer to the apartment, he started coming back to himself. _What_ was he doing here? 

____

Checking on his friend was all. It was unlike her to cancel plans at the last minute, and he didn’t appreciate being an afterthought. That sounded good, right?

____

He knocked. 

____

As he waited for her to open the door, Fitz formulated a diatribe about canceling plans with friends at the last minute, and was intent on letting Simmons know exactly how he felt about such behavior—until he saw her. 

____

Simmons looked exhausted. Her face was pallid and drawn, her hair pulled haphazardly into a bun. She wore loose sweatpants and clutched a cardigan around her shoulders. Fitz’s first thought was that this was definitely not someone who was getting ready for a date.

____

“Fitz!” Her eyebrows were raised in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

____

“I was—I mean, I didn’t know where you were so I, er, came to check on you.” 

____

Simmons narrowed her eyes.

____

“No, you didn’t.” she said. Her voice sounded strained. “You came to tell me off for cancelling our plans, didn’t you?” 

____

“Of course not!” Fitz replied in tones of mock outrage. “I resent the accusation.”

____

“I’m sorry for the last-minute notice,” she said, stepping aside so that Fitz could come in. “But when I woke up this morning, I just wasn’t feeling…up to it.” 

____

As if for emphasis, her breath faltered and she turned away to catch a sneeze in the crook of her arm.

____

“Excuse me.” She pulled a pair of tissues from the pocket of her cardigan and turned away again to blow her nose. Fitz had rarely seen her look so disheveled. There had been a few times during exams at the Academy when she’d been studying more than sleeping, but they didn’t compare to this.

____

“ ‘Not feeling up to it?’ ” Fitz rolled his eyes. “Simmons, you’re ill.” 

____

She padded into the kitchen (was she wearing _slippers?_ She really must not be well, Fitz thought) and started filling the kettle.

____

“I suppose I’ve got a bit of a cold,” she said dismissively. “But I’m perfectly fine, just tired. I did think it best not to go out just to spread my germs around. Speaking of which,” she pointed in his direction with the mug she’d just retrieved from the cupboard. “ _You_ should leave.” 

____

Fitz shook his head. 

____

“Nope, sorry. I was expecting time with my friend this morning, and I’m not leaving til I’ve had it. Besides, you shouldn’t be left alone in this state.”

____

“But I don’t want you to catch this. It’s why I cancelled our session in the first place. And anyway, I’m perfectly—” Simmons broke off suddenly as her voice caught, and she launched into a congested, painful-sounding coughing fit. Fitz winced glanced around the apartment while she recovered. He’d been here dozens of times, and each time was unsurprised to see how Simmons’s borderline OCD-level neatness from the lab translated to her living space. Today, however, he noted small signs of neglect. The unmade bed. The unwashed mugs in the sink.

____

“The next word out of your mouth better not have been ‘fine.’ Because clearly, you’re not. And I’m not going anywhere. At least not until I’ve checked you have enough supplies.” 

____

“Supplies?” Simmons asked around sniffles. 

____

“If you’re going to stay here, you’ll need provisions. Have you eaten?”

____

“I’m not hungry.” She dropped a teabag into her mug and filled it with freshly boiled water.

____

“Well, you should still eat. Even something light.” Fitz began rummaging through her cabinets. “And since I’m staying, I’ll have a cup of tea. Thanks for asking,” he grinned. Simmons rolled her eyes and reached for another mug.

____

Fitz emerged from the cupboards and the fridge empty-handed and looking exasperated.

____

“Beer, digestives, and seven packets of microwavable mac and cheese. When’s the last time you went shopping?”

____

“Please, as if your cupboards are any better. The last time I went shopping was the last time you went shopping.”

____

“So, that was…” Fitz frowned, trying to remember. “Way too long ago. Right, I’m going out, and I’m bringing back sustenance.” 

____

“Fitz, really, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.” 

____

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and his expression softened. 

____

“I know you can, Simmons. But you don’t have to. I’m here.”

____

~

____

When Fitz returned half an hour later with an armful of shopping bags, Simmons had moved to the couch. Her laptop was perched on the arm of the couch, and a box of tissues sat on the cushion next to her. 

____

“Hey!” he called, setting down his shopping bags on the kitchen counter. 

____

Jemma turned to greet him, but her features faltered, her eyes squeezed shut suddenly, and she yanked a tissue from the box beside her, burying her face in the folds with a pair of forceful sneezes. Fitz winced at the congested coughing that followed. 

____

“Ugh, sorry,” Jemma croaked.

____

“Hey,” Fitz said again, gently this time. He pulled a small bottle from one of the bags and came around the couch to face her. “Don’t apologize. You’re sick, and you need to feel better. So, you take this—” He handed her the bottle of cold medicine. “—and I’ll take this.” He snatched her laptop, and it was Jemma’s turn for a “Hey!”

____

“I’ll have you know I’m doing research for _our_ project,” she protested as Fitz shut the laptop and placed it on the kitchen counter.

____

“The project can wait. You need to rest if you want to be back at work on Monday, which I know you do.”

____

Simmons looked as though she wanted to argue, but seemed to decide that Fitz’s logic was sound.

____

“Now,” Fitz began unpacking the shopping bags. “Breakfast?” 

____

“I told you, I’m really not hu—”

____

“Thought I’d make pancakes.” 

____

Simmons’s weary expression broke into a slow smile, and she nodded.

____

“Frying pan’s in the cupboard under the sink,” she said with a yawn. She stretched and pulled her cardigan tighter around herself, sinking against the back of the couch with a small shiver.

____

“Cold?” Fitz came around the kitchen island. Simmons’s flat was small (All the standard S.H.I.E.L.D. living accommodations were small). It was really one big room—a kitchen area with a range that looked out over a living space, plus a bedroom and a closet-sized bathroom. Jemma had managed to make the space comfortable and homey. Fitz liked that he could still see her from his position in the kitchen.

____

Simmons merely shrugged at his question. Fitz went into the bedroom and grabbed a soft patchwork quilt from the end of the bed, smiling a little to himself. He recognized the quilt from Simmons’s room at the Academy. She would bring it out during movie nights on the rare occasions the Sci-Tech students took a break from studying. 

____

“Here.” He draped the quilt over Simmons’s curled form. “Why don’t you put on some Doctor Who and I’ll let you know when the pancakes are ready. And take a swig of that.” He nodded at the bottle of cold medicine he’d left on the end table.

____

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a sarcastic salute. But she reached for the bottle and peeled off the plastic protector nonetheless.

____

The thrilling tones of the Doctor Who theme started up. As Fitz bustled around the kitchen mixing up pancake batter, he watched Simmons’s eyelids get heavier, lose focus, and finally close altogether. She readjusted herself drowsily into a more horizontal position. Halfway through the first episode, she was asleep.

____

~

____

Simmons woke with a start. It took her foggy brain a moment to remember why she was on the couch, but as she sat up and her head filled with congestion, she remembered with a small groan. Pressure built quickly in her sinuses as her nose tingled fiercely and her breath hitched. She glanced quickly around for her box of tissues, but couldn’t find it fast enough. She let out two desperate sneezes, covering them with the folds of her quilt. 

____

“Gesundheit.” 

____

She jumped slightly as she realized that Fitz was sitting on the other end of the couch, tucking into a plate of pancakes.

____

“Urgh, God, sorry.” She located the tissue box and turned as far away from Fitz as she could to clear her nose.

____

“Sorry for what, sneezing when you have a cold? How dare you.” He deadpanned.

____

“I just really don’t want you to catch this, it’s miserable,” she sniffled. 

____

“I was probably going to catch it at some point anyway, at work. Why delay the inevitable? Besides, my immune system’s as solid as Captain America’s. Don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?”

____

As if in answer, her breath caught and she turned to the side to cough, the sound grating.

____

“That good, huh?” Fitz answered for her. “Here.” He got up, went to the sink, and filled a glass with water. She nodded thanks as she reached for the glass. Before she could even start to protest, he’d laid his hand gently on her forehead.

____

“You feel a bit warm,” he murmured. She leaned automatically into his touch. He cupped his hand lightly around her cheek, feeling warmth radiate back. 

____

“Mmm,” she breathed. “Feels nice.” 

____

Fitz cleared his throat and quickly removed his hand. “Er, think you’ve got a wee bit of a fever, Simmons. We should get you back to bed.”

____

She shook her head lightly as if to clear it and looked away. 

____

“I suppose you’re right.” 

____

She stood, swaying a little, and made her way slowly toward the bedroom. Fitz picked up the quilt, water glass, and tissue box and followed her.

____

He got her settled in bed, tucking the quilt around her and handing her another dose of medicine so that she could doze off again. 

____

“Thank you, Fitz, for being so sweet today.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “I’m sure I’ll just be sleeping the rest of the day. You should go and enjoy your Saturday.”

____

“Nonsense,” he said dismissively. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. It’s what friends do.” 

____

She started smiling, but suddenly her eyes widened. “Oh no, the pancakes! You went to all that trouble and I didn’t even—”

____

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll make a new batch later. For now, just sleep and get better. I need my partner back.” 

____


End file.
